


Fear and Fright and Might Makes Right

by NukaDarling



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: BDSM, Breathplay, F/M, Female-Led Relationship, Nation at War, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Poverty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26926030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NukaDarling/pseuds/NukaDarling
Summary: Nate and Nora are picture-perfect wartime sweethearts on the outside, but they're suffocating under the act just as much as anyone else in the good ol' US of A.Sometimes you gotta fuck it up a few times to know what's really gonna work for you. Hopefully you don't accidentally kill the ones you love while you figure it out.Kinktober prompt: Asphyxiation
Relationships: Nate/Nora (Fallout)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	Fear and Fright and Might Makes Right

**Author's Note:**

> **Remember, kids! Breathplay can be fun, but it carries risks of injury, brain damage, or death.** If you’re going to participate in it, have clear communication with your partner, establish a way to stop the scene, and have a backup plan if things go wrong. **This story is not a model for safe breathplay, so please don’t try this at home!**

They tried dating like normal people for a brief while at the height of the shitshow.

His soldier buddies always speculated about having this kind of life, with a home and a pretty little wife who'd cook their dinners and let themselves be wooed, and this was their reward for participating in the global pissing contest, should they live.

You can't escape war. There was no pretty little fence waiting for him. He had a week of leave, and he had a girlfriend to meet him at the airport, but who could afford a car? Or even a subway token?

They walked back. She was so tired from the first trip over, miles away from her shitty apartment, but she did it for him, and he felt like he had to try to give her— the wartime dream, maybe? Normalcy?

They collapsed on her couch, exhausted, too tired to talk. She was crying and he was too, and when did that start? Why?

He held her close, and she choked out a soft sound against his shirt.

They were together. He’d do better in the morning, but this was going to have to be enough for now.

Nate woke to an empty apartment at some point the next afternoon, jet-lagged as he was. He was surprised that Nora had made it out without waking him, but considering the bone-deep exhaustion that still lingered after a night of bad sleep on a cheap sofa, maybe it wasn’t such a shock.

He hadn’t bathed in a few days by now, he felt like shit, and he wondered just how badly it would fuck them up if he were to just never return.

He sighed, feeling his years, and got dressed for a run. It didn’t pay to get sloppy now.

What was so fucked up, really, was how normal everything seemed. People strolled the streets without the haunted looks to which he’d grown accustomed from the villagers of China. Carefully cultivated flowers formed neat displays in nice, square little yards, and kids played outside without fear of chemical burns.

People stopped him four times during his run to thank him for his service, and he fought the rising burn in his throat each time.

If they knew what he’d done to other human beings, they’d call for his head, but Reds weren’t people, were they? They were obstacles in the world of shiny cars and getting a big ol’ piece of that American dream.

Nate picked some flowers along the way, probably ruining someone’s tableau; he wondered if it was problematic that he kinda enjoyed that. He found a glass at Nora’s place— a horrendous Nuka-World cup that had seen better days— and stuck them in it with some water before putting on some coffee and finally retreating for a well-earned shower.

He’d buy some groceries later and make them a nice dinner, maybe with wine. They could plan out their time together.

He was fast asleep again by the time she got back from work. She dropped her keys on the counter and helped herself to the cold, burnt coffee in the pot and took a minute to watch him.

She was so tired and something was making her eyes water. Not even emotions, she realized; some purple and white weeds were soaking in a cup on the counter, probably shaking pollen everywhere.

Nora sighed, dumped the flowers in the trash, and tipped some whiskey into her cold coffee as she decided she was done for the day.

A knock on the door finally woke him up, startled by the sudden sound, and he was on his feet reaching for his gun before he realized where he was.

Nora laughed at him and soothed the sting to his pride with a touch. “I just ordered some dinner.”

He blinked at her, waking up some at that. “Oh— Nora, hey, we can’t— I’m so sorry, let me cover this—”

“Nate, honey. It’s alright. We can afford it this once.” She nuzzled his scruffy face for a moment, then giggled, “Hey, what if you go brush your teeth, mister death breath.”

“Subtle. I always liked you for your wily, feminine charms. Such a delicate way with words.”

“I’m a fuckin’ lady.”

He took the terribly subtle hint and left her to scrub his gross teeth while she paid for dinner. His plans for date night were completely ruined, so what was to be done but to ride it out?

He'd do better tomorrow.

Except he didn't. He hadn't realized Nora was allergic to shellfish, so the wining and dining planned for the evening turned into Nora getting choked out of her apartment while Nate miserably scrubbed shrimp scampi off of every available surface.

He tried the next night to escort Nora out to the cinema after she got home from work. The soonest picture was a cartoon of some kind, which seemed inoffensive enough. He didn’t intend to actually watch the thing, anyway.

They bought a popcorn and a coffee to share. Soda was traditional, but Nora insisted that she'd rather gag on seafood than try to drink the sludge coming out of the Nuka-Cola warehouse. Hand in hand, they took the back row, some playful canoodling on their minds—

—except who the fuck makes a kids’ movie with machine guns? Nate grabbed Nora and hit the deck, spilling popcorn and hot coffee on his uniform as he covered her from… from…

Absolutely nothing. Brightness flashed in front of him, a flashlight wielded by some trembling teenager, and he worked on controlling his breathing until the smell of blood and powder faded.

“Nate, honey,” Nora whispered, very still beneath him. “You’re with me. You’re home in Boston.”

“Do I need to call someone, sir?” squeaked the kid.

Nate took a slow, deep breath, then eased himself off of Nora. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, baby, I’m fine. Wanna get out of here?”

Nate got to his feet and helped Nora up. On the screen over them, little cartoon caricatures of pigs with buck teeth and coolie hats fumbled ineptly with a bundle of dynamite and blew themselves apart, raining down strips of bacon.

“Yeah,” he growled.

“Thank you for your service, sir,” the kid said, and was promptly shushed by someone in the crowd.

“Go fuck yourself,” he grumped. Nora let out a scandalized gasp and quickly ushered him out of the theatre, but her serious expression cracked into a grin by the time to made it outside.

Nate tried to return it, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“For what?” She linked their arms and leaned on his shoulder as they walked. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I haven’t done anything right, you mean. You deserve better.” She shot him a sharp look, and he looked away. “No, seriously. I can’t take care of you. I’m not here for you, and I fuck it all up when I am. You can do better than me.”

They walked together to a park bench. Nora sat down and looked up at him. “Nate, take off your jacket. I want to see if you have burns.”

He obediently stripped down to a plain white t-shirt. He turned for her inspection, and she sighed at a damp stain on his back. “Does it hurt?” she asked, pressing into it with gentle fingers, and he shook his head.

“Good. Have a seat.” She gestured to the ground, and after a moment, he sank to his knees beside her.

“You don’t seem to understand something, darling. I’ve made my choices. You can choose to leave me if you don’t want to be mine anymore, but you do not get to decide that I don’t want you.” She grabbed his chin and urged him forward, forcing him to brace his hands on the ground.

“Things aren’t easy right now, but they will get better. You will finish your service in the Army and come back for good, and things will be different, but I will still want you exactly as you are.”

He flinched. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

She stroked his chin with her thumb. “No, but I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

“I might always react to things like this.”

“Okay.”

“...Nora?”

She leaned in to kiss his forehead. “You’re mine, I love you, and no war is going to ever take that away from us. We’ll find a way to help you through it, whether we have a single penny between us or not. I have all I need right here.”

He shuddered and leaned against her knees. Some nearby teenagers stared at them, agape. “I’ll make this right.”

“I know you will, baby.”

They made it back and fell into her bed properly that night. Nora stripped him down and kissed his skin, tasting of coffee and salt, and she held him down and said, “Shh, let me take care of you tonight.”

It might have been a failed date, but it was a hell of a night.

He woke up to soft kisses on his face and a firm pressure on a perilously full bladder. He groaned and shoved at Nora, easily rolling them over so he could pin her instead. “Darlin’, I am going to give you everything you need, but in, like, five minutes.”

She giggled and ran her fingers through his hair. “Spoilsport. Fine. Take your time, I want to try something.” At his expression, she added, “No, not like— I’m not putting anything up your butt. This time.”

“Now who’s the spoilsport?” He nipped at her neck and rolled away to attend to things, and returned to find her kneeling on the bed, naked and holding his belt.

“Trying to make my pants fall down? Dirty girl.” He reclined back on the bed, and she took up her previous perch on his lap.

“Yep, you’ll be so embarrassed. That’s been my plan all along.” She rocked against him, grinding lazily on his bare lap. “No, but really. Tell me something. What does it feel like inside your mind lately?”

He took a long moment to watch her, considering. “It’s… busy. Loud. It helps when you’re here, but…”

“But?”

He bit his lip. “...I don’t know. I’m here, but in a million other places, too. I’m trying to do everything right and nothing is working.”

“Can I try something?”

“Anything,” he asked, not hesitating a bit.

“I want to help you focus. You’re going to focus on me, okay?”

“Okay?”

She looped the belt around his neck. He swallowed.

“I’m going to pull this tighter. Let me know if it’s too much. If you touch me, I’ll stop— otherwise, I’m going to take care of you.” She pulled the end of the belt through the ring until the leather rested lightly against his skin. “Is this okay?”

Nate felt the universe crashing down around him, a cacophony of tension that raced along his body, screaming. Thank you for your service, it seemed to say.

He closed his eyes. Nora tapped his cheek. “Stay with me. Color?”

“Green,” he murmured. Green for go ahead and wreck me.

She pulled it tighter, and the prongs of the buckle clicked into the holes of the leather. “You look good like this. You tried so many sweet things this week, but all I've ever wanted from you is just… well, you. This. Your trust. You're so vulnerable right now, even though you're so strong, and Nate… oh, Nate, I love how you trust me.”

Another pull, and a tiny gasp escaped him. He reached for her hips, reconsidered, and put his hands flat on the bed for leverage to push his hips up to grind back against her.

“You remembered! Can you breathe?”

A soft, choked sound. “...yes.”

She shivered. This kind of control was intoxicating. She toyed with the strap, tugging ever so lightly, but not enough to lock the belt any tighter. His prick was starting to swell, bumping against her insistently with his squirming, and she gave him a swat.

“You calm down and let me do the work, baby. One of us has to be careful until we get more rubbers.” She glided herself against the length of his prick, sighing. “It feels good like this, but I know you, sweetness. If you had your way about it, you'd have me anyway. Bet you’d love to fuck me bare.” She lifted herself up and trapped his dick beneath her, achingly close to taking him inside, just teasing the very tip past her labia.

He thrust up seeking more, then she gave him a firm slap across his face and pulled the belt a notch tighter. “Ah, rude! I didn't say you could do that. I'm having second thoughts about letting you have any fun now. I might just touch myself until I'm happy and leave you to fend for yourself. Would you like that?”

He closed his eyes. Nora reached out to tug the impromptu collar. “Hey, look at me.”

His eyes remained closed, and his chest was rising and falling with shallow breaths. She grabbed the belt to take it off of him, but the prongs of the buckle had seated in a notch that was too tight for her to release.

“Shit, Nate, shit, fuck, I didn't mean to— I'm going to get you out of there, baby,” and she hopped off the bed to tug at the belt with more force, and when that didn't work, fumbled at her desk for scissors or a knife or anything.

The leather was just too resilient, and he wasn't responding at all. Her heart fell to her stomach as she ran to the phone in the kitchen to call for help.

She had just given her address to emergency services when she noticed Nate shuffle to the doorway, disoriented but free, marked with angry red lines across his throat.

Nora slammed the phone on the receiver and threw herself at him. “Nate, honey, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean— it was stuck and… and I…”

She choked on a sob, and Nate held her close. “It's alright, I'm alright,” he rasped. “Sure you didn't mean it. Uh, not sure what happened exactly.”

“I fucked up,” she whimpered, clinging tight. “Nate, I could have hurt you. I was trying to help and this was the worst possible thing for you.”

“Not the very worst— I'm still here, aren't I?” He laughed a little, and genuine humor colored his face. “And now we've both ruined a good time this week.”

A furious knock at the door, a jiggled doorknob, and before Nora could respond the door crashed open and a pile of EMTs rushed her apartment.

Nate and Nora stood there, dumbfounded, just as naked as before, staring.

The EMTs stared back.

Nate scratched his neck.

“Uh. I… take it we aren't needed here anymore. C'mon, lads.” The one who'd kicked in their door looked away. “Try to leave calling 911 for real emergencies, will ya?”

“Well, I have no other choice. I can't live with the shame and must die now.” Nora dropped herself across the sofa later that day, resting her head in Nate's lap, and he chuckled and pet her hair.

“That's a little extreme, babe. If you die now, I'll have to call them back here, but they won't recognize us with clothes on. It sounds really terribly awkward, so I'd prefer you just. You know. Stay alive with me.” His voice was still a bit rough, but some tea with lemon and honey was doing wonders for soothing it, and the harsh red marks had mostly faded.

“I thought it would help, I honestly did. We were having fun.” Nora chewed her lip, looking miserable, and Nate bent to give her a kiss with smiling, honey-flavored lips.

“Weirdly enough, I think it did. Help, I mean.”

“I could have hurt you. I was trying to help you feel safe.”

“Nora, chances are strong that I'm not going to survive this war. If it wouldn't be hugely psychologically damaging for you, I'd even prefer to go out like that. It was quiet. Kinda… peaceful.”

Nora sighed and curled up tight against him. “You're not allowed to die. I have plans for you, okay? You're going to finish this tour and come home to me, and we'll figure it out— if you'll still want me after the attempted murder.”

He laughed and stroked her hair. “Of course I'll still want you. I need to be with someone who's equally terrible at relationships, after all.”

“I should have finished killing you when I had the chance,” she grumped, but there was a smile in her voice.

Maybe they weren't very good at this, but they did make a fine pair of fuckups together.


End file.
